Sweet William he married him a wife, Jennifer June and the rosymaree, To be the sweet comfort of his life, As the dew flies over the green vallee. It's she couldn't into the kitchen go, For fear of soiling her white-heeled shoes, It's she couldn't wash and it's she wouldn't bake For fear of soiling her white apron-tape. It's she couldn't card and it's she wouldn't spin For fear of soiling her delicate skin. Sweet William came whistling in from the plow, Says, "Oh my dear wife, is my dinner ready now?" She called him a dirty, paltry whelp: "If you want any dinner, go get it yourself." Sweet William went out unto the sheepfold And out a fat wether he did pull. Upon his knees he did kneel down And soon from it did strip the skin. He laid the skin on his wife's back, And he made his stick go whickety whack. "I'll tell my father and all my kin How you this quarrel did begin." "You may tell your father and all your kin How I have thrashed my fat wether's skin." Sweet William cam whistling in from the plow, Says, "Oh my dear wife, is my dinner ready now?" She drew her table and spread her board, And 'twas "Oh, my dear husband" with every word, And now they live free from all care and strife, And now she makes William a very good wife, |